


Forever and a Day

by MirrorMystic



Series: Wings of Rebellion [9]
Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Quick Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: In another time. In another life…Faye had never known Princess Anthiese. She’d never known the lost princess, youngest sister to the rebel leader threatening to tear Zofia in two, the fugitive hiding in the countryside. She’d only ever known Celica, her Celica, the only girl her age in all of Ram Village, and her closest, dearest friend.They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. But Celica has been gone for years, now. On the bad days, Faye wonders if she’ll ever see Celica again. On the worst ones, she wonders if Celica even misses her at all.On the eve of war, Celica appears, out of the blue.How much difference a day can make…





	Forever and a Day

**Author's Note:**

> In which Faye and Celica have the "Simba and Nala from The Lion King" reunion they deserve, Kliff and Faye are half-siblings, and Faye is gaye. 
> 
> This fic references the events of "From Ashes", but, aside from background details and oblique references to Celica's siblings, can more or less stand on its own. I hope you all enjoy the read! ^^

~*~  
  
Zofia is at war.  
  
Not with Rigel; at least, not openly, though with the renegade sorcerers and conjured terrors running amok, they could hardly be said to be welcome. But no; Zofia is at war with itself, against a rebel insurgency who wears Rigel’s colors, red and gold, whether out of a sense of irony or merely a sense of fashion.  
  
This far from the capital, however, it's so easy to believe that Zofia was at peace. Faye had been going about her morning routine; up before dawn, checking last night’s snares for tonight’s dinner, and then back home with a brace of rabbits in time to watch the sunrise over Ram.  
  
Just another morning in the countryside--  
  
\--until she sees the woman in red.  
  
Faye presses herself against a tree, her face flush with nerves. She swallows hard, fighting down the sickening swell of adrenaline in her gut. She takes a quick peek out of cover, and sees the hooded woman, cloaked in red, an ominous smear of red in the gray, pre-dawn light. The stranger hasn’t changed her pace-- she hasn’t noticed her. Yet.  
  
Faye lets out a shuddering breath. She reaches for the quiver around her back, feeling the whisper of fletching against her fingers, before she stops herself.  
  
If the woman was a Rebel, then Faye would rather chase her from the woods without killing her. And if the woman was Rigelian, there was a chance she was a summoner-- and if her first shot wasn’t enough, Faye risked drowning in claws and fangs before managing to take another.  
  
Faye purses her lips. Her fingers brush past the pair of rabbits hanging from her belt, and settle on the hilt of her hunting knife.  
  
Red and gold. Rebel or Rigel.  
  
She’d only get one shot.  
  
The hooded stranger picks her way through the undergrowth of Fleecer’s Forest, stopping briefly to pull her vivid red cloak free from a tangle of brambles. There’s a telltale rustle nearby, and she stops short, searching the trees--  
  
Faye bursts from a pile of leaf litter and cannons into the woman from the side, sending them both tumbling through the undergrowth, grunting and cursing. Faye smashes her opponent face-first into the grass before an elbow jabs into her stomach and shoves her back. The hooded woman pushes herself up onto her elbows in the grass, reaching for the sword strapped to her hip. Faye slams her down with all her weight, pinning the woman’s sword arm between her chest and the ground. Faye takes the woman’s hood in her fist. In an instant, she has her dagger against the woman’s pale throat.  
  
“Who are you, and what do you want?” Faye snarls.  
  
There’s a pause. The woman seems to relax at Faye’s voice, as if relieved her opponent is a woman.  
  
“Who are you?” The woman echoes. “What do _you_ want?”  
  
Irritation flashes across Faye’s eyes. If she thinks, just because she’s a girl, she’ll let her off easy…  
  
“I’m not playing your games,” Faye snaps. “What are you doing in Fleecer’s Forest?”  
  
The woman shifts beneath her, considering.  
  
“...I’m just passing through.”  
  
The hooded woman goes stiff, the cool metal of Faye’s dagger pressing against her throat.  
  
“How do I know you’re not Rigelian?” Faye growls.  
  
The woman scoffs. “If I were Rigelian, you’d already be dead.”  
  
“If you were Rigelian, _you’d_ already be dead.”  
  
“Well, neither of us is dead, so I’m _obviously_ not from Rigel!”  
  
“Oh, _gods_ …” Faye rolls her eyes. She takes the woman by the shoulder, spins her around--  
  
\--and then recoils, scrabbling away through the grass as if burned. Faye sucks in a breath, her eyes growing wide.  
  
“... _Celica_ …?”  
  
The woman pulls back her hood, revealing auburn hair and a gentle, sheepish smile. The first glimmers of sunlight stream through the trees and settle in her hair.  
  
Celica smiles, haloed in the sunrise with a gentle, golden glow.  
  
“Hello, Faye,” she breathes.  
  
Faye stands there, stunned, and staring. Then, after a moment, she shrieks, and dives into a rapturous embrace. Celica squeals in delight and wraps Faye in her arms. Celica loses her balance, and they’re falling again-- tumbling through the grass, tangled in each other, laughing, crying, overwhelmed and overjoyed.  
  
“Celica!” Faye all but sobs into Celica’s shoulder. “I can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed you…!”  
  
“Then don’t,” Celica chuckles. “You’ve done a fine job of showing me…”  
  
Faye beams, and Celica meets her gaze with the utmost fondness. Celica reaches up, picking leaves from Faye’s hair, swiping errant tears from Faye’s cheek with the pad of her thumb.  
  
Faye coos, leaning into the touch like a cat. Faye stops short, and barks out a laugh.  
  
“Oh, gods, Celica, I held you at knifepoint!” Faye giggles in faux-horror. “Mother Mila, Celica, I _tackled_ you!”  
  
“Twice, even,” Celica laughs.  
  
Faye gets up and pulls Celica to her feet, both of them clinging to each other’s arms and none too eager to let go. Faye reaches up, smoothing erstwhile strands of hair against Celica’s scalp, before gasping, scandalized, leaning up on her toes.  
  
“Look at you!” Faye murmurs, in awe. “You got so tall!”  
  
“Well, look at you! You got so…” Celica’s gaze flicks down for just a moment. “...uh…”  
  
Red blossoms across Faye’s cheeks. She self-consciously tucks an arm across her chest.  
  
Celica clears her throat. “W-Well, how’s the village?”  
  
“We should get back,” Faye grins. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”  
  
Celica takes Faye’s hand, and they start making their way through the woods, side by side. The wind picks up, tinged with the first hints of autumn. Celica pulls Faye close. She twines her fingers with Faye’s, without any fuss, and Faye leans into Celica’s shoulder. The wind ruffles their hair, the chilly breeze nudging them even closer together.  
  
_I missed you_ , it seems to sigh, through the rustling leaves.  
  
~*~  
  
The sight of her long-lost childhood friend has awoken something in Faye’s heart, something that she can’t quite put into words. But there’s a yearning in her skin, and a warmth in her chest. Celica-- the sight of her, the sound of her, the scent and feel and soul of her-- is all but seared into Faye’s senses. Having Celica in her house, so close, after so long, feels like the sun beating down on her while she’s working the fields. Just having Celica looking at her fills her with fire; if she turned and met Celica’s eyes, she’s sure she’d go blind.  
  
“Faye,” Celica calls from the dining table. “You didn’t have to _cook_ for me.”  
  
Even now, Celica’s voice drifts up the back of Faye’s neck and makes her shiver. Faye glances down and suddenly feels a surprising amount of solidarity with the egg sizzling in her skillet. She smiles, a warmth lingering in her cheeks.  
  
“Don’t be silly,” Faye coos. “You’re my guest.”  
  
Faye slides the fried egg onto a square of thick-cut, toasted brown bread beside a little vine of cherry tomatoes. She carries her bounty over to the dining table, setting Celica’s plate in front of her. Celica smiles at her in gratitude, and Faye drinks it in, feeling her heart flutter. She sets out a second plate, for herself, and a third, at the foot of the table.  
  
“Kliff!” Faye calls. “Kliff, breakfast is ready!”  
  
“I wonder if he’ll remember me,” Celica grins. “He was so small when I left.”  
  
“So were you,” Faye murmurs.  
  
Celica hesitates, her expression darkening for just a moment. She clears her throat, changing tack.  
  
“Thank you for cooking, Faye,” Celica says. “This looks amazing.”  
  
“Oh, stop. They’re just eggs.”  
  
“Yes, but they’re _your_ eggs,” Celica insists. She blinks, making a face. “...You know what I mean.”  
  
Faye smiles, taking a seat beside Celica. Her encounter with what she’d thought was a Rigelian spy earlier that morning had set her senses ablaze, and now that she knew it was Celica, that fire wouldn’t go out. She was keenly, painfully aware of the distance between them-- or lack thereof. For instance, Celica’s knee was scarcely an inch away from her own. If Celica were to move just so--  
  
Celica bumps her knee against Faye’s, and Faye has to stifle a squeak.  
  
“Are you okay?” Celica asks.  
  
Celica’s peering at Faye intently, concerned, kind… playful. There’s something just a _little_ too knowing about her look. Faye clears her throat, and looks away.  
  
“Kliff!” Faye calls up the stairs. “Kliff, we have company! Are you even awake?”  
  
“I’m up, I’m up…” Kliff grumbles, stifling a yawn. At the sight of Celica at the table, he stops halfway down the steps, blinking. “Oh. Hi.”  
  
“‘Oh. Hi.’” Celica echoes, teasing. “After seven years?”  
  
Kliff smiles. While more reserved than Faye’s reaction by a country mile, he still lets Celica pull him into a fierce hug, Celica cooing all the while.  
  
“Mother Mila, look at you!” she gasps, pinching Kliff’s cheek. “You got so _handsome!”_ _  
_ _  
_ Kliff weathers this attention with the dry expression of any teenage boy getting doted on by an older woman. He swats Celica away with an impatient, but unmistakable fondness.  
  
“Yes, I got the good looks in this family, thank you,” Kliff mutters. “Can we eat now?”  
  
Kliff takes his seat at the foot of the table. He gives Faye and Celica a curious, pointed glance, before tucking into his food with the voracity of a teenager.  
  
Celica matches his enthusiasm, taking a bite of her egg toast and then giggling as she gets crumbs all over her nice white dress. For Faye, however, breakfast is the last thing on her mind; her thoughts had stalled out at the sensation of Celica’s knee, still pressed against hers; the way the light settled in her hair and made her glow; the way Celica kept peeking at her over her toast, smiling a conspiratorial smile.  
  
Faye smiles back. There’s a warmth in her face, and a tightness in her chest, and then Faye’s smile morphs into something pensive, puzzled.  
  
_What is this feeling?_  
  
“Faye?” Celica asks.  
  
Faye goes stiff. “What? What?”  
  
“I said, ‘where is everyone’?” Celica wonders. “I’ve never seen the house this empty.”  
  
It’s a fair question, and Celica means no ill by it, but Faye can’t help but flinch. Because, yes, once upon a time the Fletcher household was full of life and light, with so many people crowded around the table a few would have to spill out onto the living room couch. It wasn’t always just her and Kliff, with half a dozen empty spaces between them.  
  
“They’re gone,” Kliff says, so Faye doesn’t have to. “Haven’t you heard? Grandpa Mycen, Auntie Ashe, Mom and Grandma… they all left to join the Rebellion.”  
  
Celica sighs, long and low. Faye glances at her.  
  
“What about your folks?” she wonders. “Conrad, and your mom…?”  
  
“Well, Mom’s still on the island,” Celica says. “But Conrad’s here, on the mainland. Our sister wrote us, told us that the war was going to be over soon. Conrad came to pledge his lance to the final push. I…” Celica glances down. “...I was going to join him.”  
  
“What? Seriously?” Kliff wonders, and Faye can’t tell if he’s shocked or impressed. “Wait. Then… what are you doing here?”  
  
“Well…” Celica murmurs. She looks up, shyly meeting Faye’s eyes. “...I had to see you.”  
  
Faye swears she feels her heart stop. She meets Celica’s gaze, stunned, staring.  
  
She’s so dazed that she doesn’t even notice the knock at the door, or Kliff excusing himself to go answer it. Time slows to a crawl. The whole world just becomes Celica’s vivid crimson eyes, and Faye, her eyes watering as if she were staring into the sun.  
  
“You came for _me_ …?” Faye whispers, breathless.  
  
“Yes,” Celica whispers back. She clears her throat and hastily adds, “A-And the boys, too. Kliff, and Gray, and Tobin, of course.”  
  
“Of course,” Faye echoes. Suddenly her throat feels very dry. She wrenches her gaze away from Celica, her heart hammering in her chest. “W-Well, you won’t find Gray or Tobin here. One of the King’s men took them--”  
  
“What?!” Celica snaps. “Who? When?”  
  
“A month ago!” Faye sputters. In an instant, Celica’s eyes had shifted from affection to anguish, and with no less intensity. Faye squirms under her piercing gaze. “...A man came to Ram. A knight. Sir Lukas. He was conscripting able-bodied men into the army, King’s orders. But he turned Kliff down for being too young, and he said he’d do his best to ensure that they never see combat. He-” Faye falters, sighs. “...He seemed like a good man.”  
  
“A good man wouldn’t be working for my father,” Celica growls, with a ferocity in her eyes that gives Faye pause. Celica huffs out a sigh, softening. She takes Faye’s hand, gives her a squeeze.  
  
Kliff returns, a pamphlet in his hands.  
  
“Bad news,” he says gravely.  
  
The paper hits the table with a smack, revealing the artfully curled logo of the Zofian Chronicle, and the blocky headline beneath: SOUTHERN OUTPOST CAPTURED; REBELS ANNOUNCE THE BEGINNING OF THE END.  
  
“The Southern Outpost?” Faye breathes, aghast. “Gray. Tobin. Are they--”  
  
“Wait. Wait,” Celica says gently. She spreads the paper across the table, reading aloud. “‘The Rebellion’s notorious assassin, The Gambler, has performed her finest trick yet, stealing the Southern Outpost out from under the noses of the Zofian Knights without firing a shot. Sir Lukas, commander of the garrison, surrendered the Outpost to the Rebellion in exchange for the lives of his men. Now, the Rebellion has a staging ground from which they can move on the capital and bring this war to a close. Sir Lukas remains missing in action.”  
  
A dreadful moment passes between them. Celica looks up, squeezing Faye’s hand.  
  
“Scattered without a fight,” Faye sighs in relief. “Mila provides.”  
  
“Yeah. A nice, bloody, civil war.” Kliff scoffs. “Thank Mila for her _bounty_ .”  
  
“King Lima must be desperate if he’s conscripting teenagers into his ranks,” Celica shakes her head, scowling. “That bastard.”  
  
“Hey, don’t pin all this on the King,” Kliff mutters. “Isn’t your sister the one leading the Rebellion? I’ve heard all about Princess Octavia, and her monster of a war axe. Gray and Tobin should call themselves lucky they haven’t been split in two!”  
  
“It wasn’t supposed to come to this,” Celica murmurs, furrowing her brow. “It was supposed to be safe here. The war wasn’t supposed to reach this far…”  
  
“Wasn’t it?” Kliff growls. “I thought that was why you _left_ .”  
  
Celica flinches as if slapped. She stares down at the paper laid out on the table, her hands curling into fists.  
  
Then she pulls her cloak off the back of her chair, wraps it around her shoulders, and walks out.  
  
“Celica…” Faye calls, reaching for her as she leaves. She shoots a withering glare at Kliff. He shrugs in muted apology, watching Faye get up and follow Celica out the door.  
  
~*~  
  
Faye finds Celica on the outskirts of Fleecer’s Forest, and is immediately relieved not to see Celica vanishing back into the woods. Instead, Celica's brooding on a grassy hill just past the gate, overlooking the village. She paints a striking picture-- the woman in red, bathed in sunlight, her cloak flitting in the wind. Completing her regal bearing is her distant, troubled expression.  
  
Faye pauses before her, breathing out a wondrous sigh. Even when Celica was troubled, she was so…  
  
There’s that feeling again. Faye clears her throat, pushing down the strange fluttering in her chest.  
  
“Celica,” Faye begins.  
  
“Faye,” Celica murmurs, biting her lip. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be,” Faye says. “And don’t listen to Kliff, either. He’s a little punk.”  
  
Celica almost smiles. Almost.  
  
“He is,” Celica says. “But he’s also right. What is he now? Fourteen? Fifteen? He’s spent almost half his life in a country at war with itself. I should have known, even as far from the capital as it is, that the war would have reached Ram eventually. And I left, like a coward. I fled for the ocean and left you to face it without me. I left you behind.”  
  
Faye’s smile turns rueful. “So, you decide to… leave? Again?”  
  
Celica pauses, blinking. Then her lips curl into a smile.  
  
“...Okay, well, when you put it like _that_ …”  
  
Celica takes a seat on the grass, beckoning Faye down beside her. Faye joins her, strangely satisfied about being able to coax a smile out of Celica at a time like this.  
  
Once again, Faye finds herself uncomfortably aware of how close she is to Celica. On the grass, their hands are scarcely an inch apart. She reaches out, wary, poking a pinky against Celica’s. Celica goes right ahead and clasps their hands together, eliciting a soft gasp and a warm gaze.  
  
Faye forces herself to look forward, at Ram sprawled out below, rather than into Celica’s striking crimson eyes.  
  
“Do you remember that story my mom used to tell us?” Faye asks. “About the sorcerer in Fleecer’s Forest?”  
  
“Oh, she loved telling that story,” Celica grins. “One morning, she’s out in the woods, checking her snares, when she sees him: a man in purple robes, with devil’s eyes, snooping around the forest. She runs back home to warn the village-- and Auntie Ashe goes out to fight.”  
  
“She was on this very hill,” Faye continues. “Sword in one hand, magical ice filling the other…”  
  
“Facing down a horde of conjured Terrors, with flesh like paper and claws like splintered wood…”  
  
“And just when it looks hopeless, like Ashe is gonna get buried under a pile of revenants, she hears the whistle of arrows on the wind. She turns around, and there’s Grandma, eyes as sharp as they’ve ever been, and Mom, running up the hill, scolding her for pulling some--”  
  
“ _Damn fool hero nonsense!_ ” They say together, their laughter ringing across the hills. Celica squeezes Faye’s hand and smiles, wrapped in nostalgia like a cloud. She sighs, her smile turning melancholic.  
  
“...You know, in hindsight, that sorcerer was only on his way to Ram because he was looking for me,” Celica says. “Auntie Ashe fought a horde of Terrors for me. She almost died for me.”  
  
“But she wasn’t alone,” Faye murmurs.  
  
Celica nods, pensive.  
  
“...Listen, Celica,” Faye continues. “The war getting closer, pulling everyone into it… that was gonna happen whether you were here or not. But Rigel was looking for you. They might _still_ be looking for you. I think your mom was right to get you as far away from the Empire as she could.”  
  
“Even if it meant being away from you?”  
  
Faye exhales. “...Yes. You’re a princess, Celica. There are places you’ll have to go where I can’t follow.”  
  
Celica’s eyes were hooded. “Where do _you_ want to go, Faye?”  
  
_With you._ Faye bites her lip.  
  
“...Anywhere, really,” Faye says instead, shrugging. “I’ve been in Ram all my life. For the longest time, the village has been the whole world, and Fleecer’s Forest was the wild frontier. But there’s so much more outside those woods. I want to see it, Celica. I want to get out of here. I want… an adventure.”  
  
Faye exhales. She meets Celica’s eyes. “...What about you?”  
  
Celica’s expression grows cloudy. She squeezes Faye’s hand, smoothing her thumb across her knuckles.  
  
“Honestly?” Celica says, her voice suddenly very small. “I’d be happy just having someone to come home to.”  
  
Faye goes still. Celica fixes her eyes forward, lips pursed with melancholy. A long moment passes between them, the wind rustling through the grass.  
  
Finally, Faye breaks the somber quiet.  
  
“Hey,” she says, bumping an elbow against Celica’s. “When was the last time you held a bow?”  
  
~*~  
  
Calling this an ‘archery range’ would have been giving it a _little_ too much credit. There is only a single target, nailed to a fencepost, and the range is across the Fletchers’ vegetable field, so any shots that fall short run the risk of beheading an innocent turnip.  
  
Still, it has a certain charm. And, even with turnip stalks framing her feet, Celica in her white gown, red cloak, and a quiver on her belt, certainly cuts a striking figure.  
  
“Oh, Mila, I haven’t done this in ages…” Celica murmurs, adjusting her grip on Faye’s shortbow.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Faye urges, smiling. “It’s like riding a horse. You never forget.”  
  
“Yes, except neither of us learned how to ride,” Celica teases. “Conrad, though, he _loves_ horses.”  
  
Faye giggles. “Come on, then. Give me your best shot.”  
  
Celica takes a deep breath, lets it out slow. She nocks an arrow, takes aim, and lets it fly.  
  
Her shot snips a leafy green stem and thuds into the fence, missing the target entirely.  
  
“My turnips!” Faye cries in faux-horror.  
  
“Okay, okay, _that_ wasn’t my best,” Celica laughs, sheepish. “Let me just... “  
  
Celica nocks another arrow. Her second shot sails over the line of turnips and manages to hit the target-- right in the outermost ring, four rings away from a bullseye. Celica winces.  
  
“ _Mila_ , you’re rusty,” Faye chides. “What did they teach you down on Novis, anyway?”  
  
“Not to shoot,” Celica admits. “There aren’t any woods on Novis. Just hills, sheep… fish. Lots of fish. I learned how to tie knots, though. Oh! And I learned how to sail.”  
  
“You learned how to _sail_ ?” Faye balks. “That’s so cool! Can you show me, sometime?”  
  
“Well, first I’d need a ship,” Celica laughs, warm. “But… yeah, I’d love to.”  
  
“Let’s make a deal,” Faye grins. “You teach me how to sail, and _I’ll_ teach you how to shoot again.”  
  
“I know how to shoot!” Celica insists.  
  
“Okay, then do it!” Faye teases.  
  
Celica huffs at the challenge, nocking a third arrow and letting it fly. Her shot punches into the target a little closer to the center than before. Still three rings off from a bullseye, though.  
  
Celica falters, her cheeks growing red.  
  
“...O-Okay, maybe I _am_ a little rusty…” She clears her throat, hasty. “But! Maybe it’s not me.”  
  
“I think it’s you,” Faye says.  
  
“Nuh-uh!” Celica says. “Maybe, uh… maybe these arrows aren’t… fletched properly?”  
  
“ _Excuse_ you, _I_ fletched those arrows,” Faye says, in faux-indignation. “Do you think they call my folks the Fletchers for nothing? They fly straight. Your aim is just off.”  
  
Celica giggles. “You sound like your grandma.”  
  
“Oh, Mila forbid,” Faye rolls her eyes. She takes her bow from Celica’s hands, reaches down to Celica’s hip and draws an arrow. Faye takes aim, and lets it fly.  
  
Her shot punches through the target, dead center.  
  
“Whoa,” Celica whispers behind her. A flush of pride tints Faye’s cheeks.  
  
“You can do that, too,” Faye grins, handing her bow back to Celica. “Just fix your stance. And keep your arm straight, you’re putting all the stress on your wrist.”  
  
Celica shuffles. “Uh… like this?”  
  
“Oh, Mila…” Faye rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe I have to teach posture to a princess. Here, fix your footing…”  
  
Faye crosses behind Celica and nudges her into a wider stance. She pushes Celica’s elbow up, straight, as she draws, so the tension is taken by her whole arm rather than just her fingers and wrist. Only when Celica lets out a gasp does Faye realize how close they are-- her chest flush against Celica’s back, her arm lingering by Celica’s waist.  
  
Celica turns to look at her, over her shoulder. Their eyes meet for a long moment, Faye’s heart racing in her chest.  
  
Celica opens her mouth, as if to say something, before closing it again. Holding Celica’s gaze like this is too intense, too overwhelming, so Faye tries to look away-- and winds up staring at her lips, instead. _Mila, that was a mistake._  
  
Celica manages to tear her gaze away-- only to gasp, excited.  
  
“Oh! Look!”  
  
Her shot was almost perfect-- just a single ring away from a bullseye.  
  
“That was so much better!” Celica coos.  
  
“It was,” Faye smiles. “Although, I mean, _mine_ was still better…”  
  
“Oh, you--!” Celica shoves Faye away in playful outrage.  
  
Faye squeals and darts away, running across the yard, and Celica chases her, the two of them cackling like schoolgirls. Faye shrieks in delight as Celica tackles her and sends them rolling through the grass. Before she knows it, Faye’s on her back, her arms pinned above her head, and Celica’s beaming down at her with a smug, jocular grin wholly unbecoming of royalty.  
  
“Ha! Pinned you!” Celica crows.  
  
“I got you before,” Faye argues.  
  
“Only by surprise.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I’m still a better shot.”  
  
“Okay, but you can’t ride a horse.”  
  
“Neither can _you_ !”  
  
They laugh together, in the brilliant sunlight. Celica’s smile is downright blinding. Warmth blooms in their chests, and Celica falls into Faye’s embrace, sighing, content.  
  
“Gods, I missed this,” Celica murmurs into Faye’s throat. “I missed you.”  
  
Faye holds Celica as close as she can, smoothing Celica’s hair against her scalp.  
  
“I missed you, too,” Faye whispers.  
  
“I wish I’d never left,” Celica says. She laughs. “Look at us, rolling around in the dirt. It’s like we’re kids again.”  
  
Faye becomes abruptly, achingly aware that she and Celica are tangled together, a heat blooming in her veins that she had never felt as a child.  
  
“...Not quite,” Faye manages, her face warm.  
  
Celica chuckles, and nods.  
  
“Not quite,” she agrees. “Look at you, Faye. Mila, you’re so…”  
  
Celica exhales, smiling.  
  
“...beautiful,” she whispers.  
  
Faye swears her face is on fire.  
  
“What?!” she sputters. “Not like _you_ ! And- And not like this! I’m all sweaty, and dirty, and there are leaves in my hair--”  
  
“You are, Faye,” Celica coos. She chuckles, reaching up and picking an errant twig out of Faye’s braids. “Even-- _especially_ when you have leaves in your hair.”  
  
Faye’s face is burning. If she looks Celica in the eyes right now, she swears she’ll go blind.  
  
“...Thank you,” she murmurs. “But Celica, let me tell you. If I’m beautiful, you’re _gorgeous_ .”  
  
Celica laughs, nervous, looking away in a vain attempt to hide her blush.  
  
“Well… I don’t know about _that_ …”  
  
The moment stretches out, languid, lazy, warm. There’s Faye, laid out on the grass. There’s Celica, sitting on Faye’s knees, her hair catching the light. In that moment, they’re together, haloed in green and gold. It’s… magical.  
  
“You two having fun?”  
  
Faye squeaks in embarrassment and practically throws Celica off of her, scrabbling to her feet. She shoots a glare at Kliff, standing with his arms across his chest and an insufferably smug grin on his face, a wrapped bundle at his feet.  
  
“Kliff!” Faye snaps, while Celica sits beside her, laughing, a hand over her mouth. “What are you doing here?!”  
  
“‘What am I doing here’, like you two aren’t rolling around in _my_ backyard…” Kliff scoffs. He jerks his head towards Celica. “Hey. I’m sorry I shot my mouth off, earlier. I’m a jerk.”  
  
“You’re _not_ a jerk,” Celica urged.  
  
“He’s kind of a jerk,” Faye admitted.  
  
“ _Thank you_ , sis,” Kliff rolls his eyes. “Anyway, listen. I brought a peace offering. But if you two would rather keep on cuddling…”  
  
Faye has to stop herself from pulling her cloak over her face, she’s blushing so bad. Celica laughs, reaching past her to pick up Kliff’s gift-- a picnic basket, packed with a loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese wrapped in cloth, a waterskin filled with sweet tea, apples, and a pair of meat pies, still steaming. Celica gasps at the unexpected bounty, and flashes Kliff a grateful smile.  
  
“This is lovely,” she says. “Thank you.”  
  
Kliff shrugs, his hands in his pockets. “...Rabbit stew tonight. Don’t miss it.”  
  
“We won’t,” Celica nods.  
  
“Oh!” Faye cries out. “Oh, Mila, I’ve completely lost track of time. There are still so many things to do. The garden--”  
  
“I’ll take care of it,” Kliff says, already on his way back to the house. He gives a lazy wave over his shoulder. “Enjoy your picnic.”  
  
~*~  
  
Faye and Celica have lunch on the hill overlooking Ram Village. When neither of them can eat another bite, they lay together on their picnic blanket, in the dappled shade of the tree marking the boundary of Fleecer’s Forest. Seven years of lost time pass between them in seven hours, tales of life on Novis, the Zofian Civil War, the Fletcher family, Celica’s priory friends. They talk, and laugh, and the hours melt away.  
  
They watch the sun set over Ram from the hill overlooking the city, so wrapped up in each other's company that Kliff has to come looking for them once dinner's ready. When they return, Celica brings a light and life to the dinner table that the Fletcher household hasn’t felt in weeks. Celica has so many stories to tell, about the library on Novis, the sea, pirates, pranks. Faye watches her through it all, enraptured, that strange warmth lingering in her chest.  
  
Faye and Celica spend an evening all over each other, laughing, sneaking glances, sharing little smiles and touches-- shoulders, knees, hands. Kliff eyes them with suspicion, and a smug look in his eyes that makes Faye’s cheeks burn. But whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t say out loud, to Faye’s immense relief.  
  
Night falls, and the moon rises on an extraordinary day. Kliff disappears to his room, leaving Faye to take Celica’s hand and usher her up to hers.  
  
“Sorry,” Faye says, sheepish. “It must not be what you’re used to.”  
  
“I lived in a monastery, not a _palace_ ,” Celica chides, spreading a thick comforter down on the floor boards and lying back with a satisfied sigh.  
  
“You’re a guest,” Faye protests. “I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. Take my bed.”  
  
“Oh, so it’s okay if  _you_ sleep on the floor?” Celica teases. “No. You stay right up there. I’ll join you, if you like.”  
  
Faye flushes. “There’s… not enough room.”  
  
Celica shrugs, smiling. “Then get down here.”  
  
Faye hesitates, before reaching out, wary. Celica takes her hand and pulls her down until they’re lying, face to face. Celica doesn’t let go of Faye’s hand. After a moment, Faye twines their fingers together with a squeeze. They lay together, haloed in the pale silver of a cloudless night.  
  
“Celica?” Faye murmurs.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Today has been… amazing.”  
  
Celica grins, squeezing Faye’s hand.  
  
“It was. I’m so happy I got to see you again.”  
  
Faye takes a shuddering breath, feeling a familiar prickle in her eyes.  
  
“...I am, too, Celica. I was so…” Faye sighs. “...I was so lonely.”  
  
Celica blows out a sigh, gazing up at the ceiling.  
  
“Oh, Faye. If I had known everyone was going to go to war and leave you in an all-but-empty house, then I never would have left,” Celica murmurs. “But it wasn’t all bad, surely? I mean, you still had Kliff with you.”  
  
“It’s not the same,” Faye insists. “He’s family. But you…”  
  
Faye stops herself. She blows out a sigh, and sits up, hugging her knees to her chest. Celica sits up, studying Faye’s face in the moonlight, her eyes dark with concern.  
  
“Faye?” she ventures.  
  
Faye takes a shuddering breath, and lets it out slow. She lifts her head, moonlight glinting off of teary eyes.  
  
“Celica, I think I’m… a little bit… in love with you.”  
  
Celica’s breath catches in her throat. She swallows hard, staring at the floor.  
  
“...Oh, Faye,” Celica whispers. “I think I’m a little bit in love with you, too.”  
  
“You are?” Faye gasps. “But… but then--”  
  
“It’s… complicated,” Celica says with a grimace. “I’m a princess.”  
  
“That shouldn’t matter!”  
  
“No, it shouldn’t matter, but it _does_ ,” Celica insists. “I’m a princess, and my country is at war. Tomorrow, I leave to join my siblings in bringing this conflict to an end, once and for all. I don’t really know what will happen after that. But it will be hectic, and there will be work to be done, and…”  
  
“So then… you and me…” Faye whispers.  
  
Celica takes a deep breath. “...until this war is over, Faye, there can’t be a you and me.”  
  
Faye nods, grave. Then she perks up, blinking, her lips curling into a hopeful smile.  
  
“Then, after the war…?”  
  
Celica takes Faye’s hand and clutches it to her chest.  
  
“Yes,” Celica says, resolute, her heart beating into Faye’s palm. “I care about you dearly, Faye. Come with me tomorrow. I won’t ask you to fight. But come with me tomorrow. Meet my siblings. Be with me when we end this war, and once it’s done, we can be together.”  
  
“I want to,” Faye whispers. “I want to go with you, Celica, so badly. But-- I can’t just leave the village. And Kliff--”  
  
Celica swallows. Nods.  
  
“...Then I’ll come back for you,” Celica says. “I’ll come back for you, I promise. You just have to wait for me. Wait for me, okay?”  
  
Faye shudders, blinking away tears. Celica reaches out, smoothing them away.  
  
“I wish I could, Celica,” Faye gasps. “I wish I could say I was strong enough to wait forever for you. But I couldn’t stand you being away for seven years. If you leave me again…”  
  
“It won’t be that long, I swear,” Celica hisses. “Please, Faye…”  
  
“No, Celica,” Faye gulps. She reaches out, tracing Celica’s jaw with a fingernail. “Celica, if you truly feel the way I feel, then you know I can’t wait for you. I wish I could say I would wait forever for you. But I _want_ you, Celica. I want you _now_ \--”  
  
Celica darts forward, and Faye goes still as a stone. They part with a gasp, eyes heavy-lidded, their foreheads touching.  
  
“You have me,” Celica whispers. “Now, and always.”  
  
Celica seals her promise with a kiss. And another, and another, until her hands are tangled in Faye’s hair and her back hits the floor.  
  
~*~  
  
Daybreak. Faye wakes, blinking, in the golden sunrise, and gasps in fear when she doesn’t feel Celica beside her.  
  
_Alone._ The thought pricks her heart like a fishhook and lingers in the forefront of her head, even as she pulls on her dress and her boots and makes her way downstairs.  
  
“There was something I wanted to show you,” Kliff is saying, at the dining table. He takes a deep breath, and cups his hands. “...Okay. Check this out.”  
  
Celica watches his hands, rapt. A long moment goes by.  
  
“...Um. Did you do it?”  
  
“Give me a second, alright?” Kliff winces. “...this is just, I dunno, stage fright…”  
  
They look up as Faye stops, breathless, halfway down the steps. Kliff blinks up at her, puzzled.  
  
“Morning,” he says blithely. “You okay?”  
  
“Hey,” Celica says, shyly.  
  
“...Hey,” Faye murmurs, managing a smile.  
  
“Alright, alright, I think I got it,” Kliff says, as Faye joins them at the table. Just above Kliff’s cupped hands, the air shivers with heat haze-- and then a wisp of fire crackles into being, a candleflame hovering above Kliff’s palm.  
  
“Oh!” Celica squeals, delighted. “Kliff, you’re a Mage! Faye, you-- you didn’t tell me!”  
  
“Because he’s not any _good_ at it,” Faye laughs, rolling her eyes.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up,” Kliff says, tossing the wisp of fire between his hands. “I think I did pretty good for someone with nobody to teach ‘em. Auntie Ashe was the only other Mage in all of Ram, and I dunno if it’s ‘cuz she’s Rigelian, but she only knows ice, not fire. But you, Celica-- you’re a fire mage, aren’t you?”  
  
Kliff tosses the wisp over Celica’s shoulder. Celica raises a hand and stops it in mid-air, the wisp coming to a hover above her open palm.  
  
“Well, I know a few tricks,” Celica smiles.  
  
“If you come back, maybe you can teach me a thing or two,” Kliff suggests.  
  
Celica looks up, pointedly meeting Faye’s eyes. She raises her hand to her lips and blows a kiss across her palm, the conjured wisp vanishing into embers. Faye snatches her gaze away, heat rising in her cheeks.  
  
“ _When_ I come back,” Celica says, “I’d love to teach you.”  
  
~*~  
  
After breakfast, it was time to say goodbye. Kliff, perhaps sensing the knot of sentimentality he had no interest in being part of, stayed inside, claiming he had chores to do. Now, Faye and Celica stand outside the Fletcher house, holding hands, both of them stubbornly fighting tears.  
  
“I have something for you,” Celica murmurs. She reaches into a belt pouch and pulls out a ribbon the burnt-orange color of sunset.  
  
“It’s not much,” Celica says, sheepish. “I had to travel light, but I still wanted to get you something for your eighteenth nameday.”  
  
“Hush,” Faye whispers. “It’s beautiful.”  
  
Celica smiles. “Like you.”  
  
She leans in close, reaching around Faye to tie the ribbon into her hair. Faye just can’t help herself. She darts in and steals a kiss.  
  
“I have something for you, too,” Faye murmurs. She pulls a cord necklace from her pocket. Celica obligingly dips her head and lets Faye place the pendant around her neck, leaning in close enough for Celica to steal a kiss of her own. Faye smiles, but it’s a bittersweet smile.  
  
“My family says that a Fletcher arrow always flies straight and true,” Faye says, “but not every batch comes out perfect.”  
  
Celica reaches up, her fingers closing around her impromptu pendant-- the broken haft of an arrow, the feathered fletching curled and uneven.  
  
“A poorly fletched arrow won’t fly straight,” Faye murmurs, her eyes wet. “Maybe it’ll even come right back around.”  
  
“I _will_ come back for you,” Celica whispers. “I’ll see you again, and it won’t take me seven years this time. I won’t keep you waiting that long, ever again. I promise.”  
  
Faye takes a shuddering breath, before darting forward and wrapping Celica in her arms. They stand together, swaying, holding each other tight.  
  
“Oh, Celica…” Faye whispers. “I wish… we had more time.”  
  
“Soon, Faye,” Celica murmurs, like a prayer. “Soon, we’ll have forever.”  
  
Celica seals her promise with one last kiss.  
  
And then she’s gone.  
  
~*~  
  
The walk back to her house seems to last an eternity. Faye drags herself back up the porch steps, flings the door open, and sinks onto a chair, her whole body feeling like lead. She blows out a sigh, and stubbornly swipes her sleeve over her eyes. Celica, her Celica, blazed like the sun. Look at her too long, then look away, and she’ll still linger on the back of your eyelids, and she’ll still make your eyes wet.  
  
There’s a loud thump beside her, followed by the sound of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. When Faye lifts her head up off the table, Kliff’s waiting for her, grinning.  
  
He reaches over and claps a hand against what he’d been working on all morning-- a traveler’s pack, stuffed with enough clothes and supplies to last the journey to Zofia Castle.  
  
“Good thing you’re back,” Kliff says, with a knowing smile. “You forgot your bag.”  
  
~*~  
  
“Kliff, are you sure about this? You never learned how to shoot!”  
  
“No, but I know how to set the snares. I’ll be fine,” Kliff urges. He finishes tying Faye’s quiver belt around her waist and then pulls her short hunting cloak over her shoulders.  
  
“Kliff,” Faye begins. They stop at the edge of Ram, Faye adjusting the weight of her pack on her back. “Are you sure you’ll be able to handle the house by yourself?”  
  
“Please,” Kliff scoffs. “It’s basically what I did all day yesterday while you two were making heart eyes at each other. Besides, _you’re_ in love with a princess, and you’re about to meet her entire family. Between the two of us, I'm more worried about _you_."  
  
“Thank you for this,” Faye says. “I love you.”  
  
“Whatever,” Kliff smiles. “Go. Go!”  
  
Faye pulls him into a quick hug, before he gives her one last push down the road.  
  
At the edge of Fleecer’s Forest, on the hill where a sorcerer came hunting for her years ago, Celica stands, her crimson cloak flitting in the breeze. She stops below the tree where she and Faye had had their picnic, clutching the little tuft of fletching hanging around her neck.  
  
“Celica!”  
  
Celica turns, and her eyes light up.  
  
Faye crests the hill, haloed in the light of the rising sun. She huffs, setting her traveling pack on the ground and swiping her cloak across her forehead.  
  
Celica opens her arms. Faye comes running.  
  
They meet, like the earth rising up to meet the sun. They tumble through the grass, tangled in each other’s arms, and the world blazes with light and color-- red, green, and gold.  
  
~*~


End file.
